Early 1995

“You want me to do what?” I asked my supervisor. Not that I didn’t hear him the first time, I heard him quite clearly, but I was sure it had to be a joke.

Even if my superior officer wasn’t the joking type.

“We need you to go undercover. If what our witness says it is true, we could nab Pearlman for fraud and murder, Agent Barr,” my boss repeated. Part of me was excited at the idea. I was one of the youngest agents under his supervision and any case in the field was good news.

On the other hand...

“Does he understand I’m going to live his life for at least a year?” There was no question why they had chosen me. Even when the boy in the picture was obviously younger than me, there was an uncanny likeness between us. The guy in the file could easily have been my brother.

“He understands that. Since he is our star witness, it’s in our best interest to keep him safe until we have enough proof against Pearlman and his accomplices, so he will be placed in a temporary protection program. If the operation goes as planned, by the end of it we will be able to switch you two back again.”

I nodded, groaning inside. Lou Pearlman had started in the transportation business, renting planes and limousines, but in the last few years he had moved into entertainment. We had suspicions that his interest in the boys that he represented was less than healthy, but hadn’t been able to prove it.

Our lucky break came when a local kid saw Pearlman himself kill one of his associates. Unfortunately, the agent in charge of the operation didn’t think it was enough to put the fat bastard behind bars for long, so we needed to find more evidence.

Pearlman seemed eager to cash in with pre-made bubblegum pop groups. He was surrounding himself with teenagers. He hadn’t seen our witness; the kid was still our hidden ace.

The mission was simple. I would take over the witness’ life, and try to get myself into one of Pearlman’s projects.

It sounded really easy. A simple mission, that involved the minimum risk possible, especially compared to those agents who had to infiltrate drug rings and mob families.

That didn’t mean I had to like it.

Late 1997

Nothing could have prepared them for Europe.

They had expected rehearsals, presentations, interviews and fans, sure, but not as many as they had encountered.

They had expected hotels and nights on the road, but not such cheap hotels, small rooms and one bus.

Even so, Chris tried to see the positive side of things. He trusted Lou, and he trusted that things would change soon. They were working their asses off, and soon their effort would be rewarded.

Besides, since his band mates and the crew were the only people he knew in the country who spoke English, the little time between the shows was the perfect way to finish cementing their friendship. They had got to know each other very well during the year they had spent getting ready for Europe, and now Chris couldn’t think of anyone who knew him better than his four friends.

There was JC, without whom Chris was sure his idea would never have got off the ground because JC had gotten the idea with the same enthusiasm. There was Justin, who, okay, was almost ten years younger than Chris, but that didn’t make him less driven. Justin was as determined as Chris himself to make *N Sync work.

Joey’s joining had been both by accident and almost destined. Chris remembered seeing Joey around Universal, heard him sing, and thinking about how to broach the idea to him. JC was Joey’s friend from their childhood and had been thinking about contacting him, since they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year. And then, one night, they had just bumped into him at a club, and that was the best thing that could have happened in Chris’s honest opinion.

Thinking about it, Chris turned to look at Joey, who was lying on his bed, trying to decipher an old Superman comic in German. Joey was not only a great dancer; he also had a beautiful voice and great charisma on the stage. More important, Joey was fun to be with. Joey made the time between shows pass quickly, and didn’t let them think too much about what would happen if their plans failed.

Joey was quickly becoming the heart of the group.

Finally, there was Lance. Whenever Chris was alone with his feelings, he admitted that not accepting Lance in the group would have been a big mistake. After Jason had left, Chris had been reluctant while trying to find the needed fifth member. Chris had even tried to convince the others to try and get Jason back.

But whatever misgivings Chris had about Lance’s age and serious personality were easily overridden by the fact that Lance’s voice fit right in with the group. By the time they had spent six months rehearsing together, the group sounded almost perfect, especially whenever they sang a cappella. That was when when Lou had finally accepted and given them a contract.

There was only one thing that still bothered Chris a little about Lance, and it was that Lance was too serious for a 17 year old. He was always worrying about the schedules, the show, the things that went behind the curtain. It wasn’t that Chris didn’t worry about that, but Lance worried a little too much.

Chris didn’t realize he had been humming “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” until he heard Joey’s clear voice joining in for the refrain. He smiled.

Things were going to get better soon.

There are a thousand things I’m pretty sure no one could have foreseen while preparing our little scenario.

Almost three years on this fucking nightmare is not one of them. I knew very well when I was forced to accept the mission that it was not going to be a short and easy job. I’m pretty sure that our witness didn’t know that.

Getting into Pearlman’s organization was easy, although I know that some day someone is going to ask the right question and this will all come tumbling down. I’m just lucky that no one has analyzed the story of *N Sync’s meeting too deeply. Some would think it was just chance that Kirkpatrick was trying to get a contract with Transcon, but our sources were solid enough.

The only thing I needed to do was to wait until a chance came. If Kirkpatrick didn’t want me for his group, I could wait until Pearlman got greedy and did a new call as he had done for the Backstreet Boys. My bosses wanted things to go smoothly to avoid any suspicion and I was doing my best to fit in.

When the rehearsals started, there wasn’t a day I didn’t thank my mother for having insisted on music lessons, even when I was never interested in singing professionally. If she could see me now, she would laugh, I’m sure.

But now, the mission seems to be stagnating. I’m in Germany, and Pearlman is not. I couldn’t stay in Florida to keep an eye on him and maintain my cover, so I’m practically useless. That’s something I’m sure tactics didn’t foresee, or if they did, they failed it to mention it to the witness.

He’s lucky, in a sense. He’s got a nice deal, which does insure that he’ll get his life back if nothing goes terribly wrong. At the end of the day, he’ll get whatever money I make as him, and, if this group manages to survive Pearlman, a nice place under the spotlight.

I’ll probably have to go through cosmetic surgery since our faces have been pretty much photographed from every single angle imaginable, and then go back to the desk job I had before this.

Because I might be a good agent, and I am doing my best to keep my cover, but there’s one secret I doubt I’ll be able to keep from my superiors in this assignment if it goes for much longer.

When they find out, they won’t fire me. But they will make sure I never have an important job again.

My life sucks.

“Well, that was awkward.” Joey was the first one inside the room, and even though he was sweaty and tired from the charity game, he let himself fall in one of the beds. They had three rooms for the five of them, and he looked willing to fight anyone who asked him to move to the other rooms.

“That’s an understatement,” Lance agreed, sitting on the only chair in the room. He almost immediately closed his eyes, which showed how exhausted he was. “They were not happy to see us.”

“Would you be, in their place?” Justin sat on the floor, and JC followed his example, choosing a spot near Lance’s chair. They hadn’t had many live presentations that month, but the rehearsals for October together with the charity game were killing them. “I’d hate us too.”

Chris didn’t say anything; he just got his towel from his bag, and headed to the shower. Before the game he had tried to talk with Howie D, a friend he remembered from college, only to be ignored. They all knew how much that had hurt Chris, who lately was feeling depressed.

The excess of work, the bad press, and the fact that he had been wearing braces for almost three months now- it was all getting to him, when he usually was the more optimist of the group.

“It’ll get better,” Joey suddenly said, once they heard the running water. “You will see. It’s just a matter of time before we get really rich and famous, and then those guys will eat their words. We will remember days like this and laugh.”

“I hope you’re right, Joey,” Lance answered, but his voice sounded more pessimistic than usual. “I really hope you’re right.”

Early 1998

I’m going to get my hands on whoever works with my information, and I’m going to kill him.

Last year I saw enough of Europe to last me a life-time. The time we were in the States was barely enough for me to touch base, and check my information with the bureau and the witness, who is starting to get anxious.

*N Sync isn’t big enough that people tell him he looks like ‘me’ yet, but it will happen. And he knows it. He wants to know when we’re going to get the murderous bastard.

I wish I could tell him that’s going to be soon, but things are getting hard. As far as I have been able to tell, Pearlman has gone straight for a while. One good thing I can say about all of this is that yes, the guys have just enough access for my job to be easy. I’m here to observe, and to lure anyone who could be looking for our witness away from their real target. No one suspects if we ask a couple of questions about the business, and it’s fairly easy to pick up red flags when they tell me that ‘it’s not something that should bother me’. Thankfully, there has been no signs that Pearlman knows he was spotted, and our witness is completely safe.

Still, I’m going into my fourth year at this. And with every day that passes it becomes harder for me to remember that it is not going to last. Nothing here is mine.

My ‘family’ is the witness’ family. They know what’s going on, and accept me only because I’m their best chance to get their son back, safe and sound. My ‘friends’ don’t know that I am not the guy they think I am. They are the witness’ friends, and none of them will ever know I existed once the switch is done, when the mission is over.

Not even the face I see in the mirror is mine.

The man I see in the mirror is him. The man who smiles from the pictures, who is loved by the fans, it’s not me. It’s him.

I can’t fool myself into thinking they like me. They like him and he is not me. I have to be very careful and keep him and me separated.

It’s the only way it will not hurt as much when I have to leave all this behind.

Because as much as I’d like to deny it…

I’m starting to like being here.